The Private Diary of Lady Macbeth
by LadyShiva17
Summary: A short collection of Lady Macbeth's personal entries depicting her thoughts and feelings during Shakespeare's tragedy, Macbeth. Written in somewhat normal english.


**A/N:**A project for my English class. I took a more of a sypathetic take on Lady Macbeth because I think she is a very complex character. Shake's a genius. Hope you like, leave reviews!

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The Private Diary of Lady Macbeth

At noon I received a letter dispatched from my husband, Macbeth, who will be returning home from battle soon. In his message he describes meeting three weird sisters, ugly and haggard, and they foretold that my lord would soon be named, firstly, Thane of Cawdor and, after that, King of Scotland! Imagine! And while he yet held in rapture, my husband was promptly named Thane of Cawdor, precisely as the three witches had prophesied. If this was now true, then would not the remainder of of the prophecy come true as well?

Already I am scheming. I know what has to be done. But I do fear that my husband is too full of the milk of human kindness to do it. I will have to persuade him. We must kill Duncan! It is the only way we can be great, I am sure he will recognize that. The king, my husband, and others come to Inverness this night in celebration of their victory. I must speak to mys lord on this matter. 'Til then, book of secrets.

..........

I bring good tidings, friend! I do believe that my husband has been successfully convinced. There will be no commotion, unless my lord's panic finds it's voice, we will be silent and cautious. I have scheduled it perfectly. We will make it appear as though Duncan's chamberlains are to blame. I am to drug them so that they will be fast asleep while my husband is...occupied. They won't recall anything in the morning.... Our guests are requesting my presence.

.........

There was so much blood. Buckets and buckets, it seemed. When I entered our dead king's bed chamber, his then peaceful form lying there, I remained calm and determined to complete my task. I smeared two daggers with his thick, red fluid and staged the scene.

We were successful, now we'll wait, until morning, to be discovered or not. The rest of the house is sleeping, I am going to join them.

..........

I have become so entangled in my new world. I am Queen of Scotland! I cannot think of how I could ever have doubted my husband, now King Macbeth, or his mettle. It was wonderful in the beginning, however I keep noticing how my lord is becoming more distant and more restless as the weeks go by. But there had been nothing compared to the spectacle during the banquet last night, and before our dignified guests, too! General Banquo was not present, though, and I was slightly relieved that he was not witnessing my husband's sudden burst of madness. It was almost as if he'd seen a ghost at our table, the way he acted. Although I assured him it was the result of lack of sleep, I do fear that my lord is being affected by a guilty conscience. My poor husband. Will this be my fate, too, eventually?

That night we slept, but the next day I did not see my husband, for he'd stolen himself away somewhere else in the castle. Then I recieved the news. The general Banquo had been killed, while we supped, the night before. Although my husband seemed to think otherwise, I could easily put the pieces together. Was Banquo, good, honorable Banquo, a threat somehow? He must have been.... Fleance, his son, still lived. What if...? I shudder at the thought and ignore my fears. My husband's irritation continues to grow worse each day. I fret.

..........

My nightmares are rapidly becoming worse. Before, they were not as noticeable, just fleeting glimpses of fear and guilt. Now, though, it is a very different story. Now, I see the scene of Duncan's bloodied body in his bed, and Macbeth's and mine putrid smelling, red soaked hands. My husband tells me that I begin to shake and shiver when they come, and I am continuously making scrubbing motions with my frail, white hands. As if to wash them...? When the nightmares first started, I would grind my teeth, but now I had begun talking and sobbing in my I ask her, my gentlewoman, who remains by my side as of late, lies saying she can never make out what I mumble. Some nights, I woke crying and soaked in sweat. The past few nights, though, I had awoke screaming. My husband is preoccupied with securing the title of king, and I will not pester him.

..........

I am distraught. The servants say that I have begun roaming about while asleep, crying and speaking frantically to no one. Weary, I have no choice but to believe them. This week I had collapsed, a total of four times, and sobbed. This, understandably, frightened my husband and my gentlewoman. They've sent for a doctor. It is no mystery as to what is wrong with me. It's the guilt! This blood guilt is crushing my soul, weighing heavy on my heart. But I'm not alone, either. These days, my husband looks twenty years his elder, with dark circles under his sunken eyes, hanging, wrinkled skin, and his jaw going unshaven more often now.

I do not dwell on his image's flaws very much, though, considering I am in a state far worse. It is a stranger, in the mirror, a creature that sports frayed, unkempt hair, purple bags under her eyes, a blanched face with lips just as pale, but her eyes are what stood out the most, they being glazed over and distant, dead, decrepit. What has happened to me?

My spirits sag with Duncan's blood on my hands, and added to them is Banquo's, and now even the little family of Macduff, the Thane of Fife, is gone. Lady Macduff and their children, even servants, all slaughtered. My husband did this. I ask myself if I can take anymore of this horror. Wasn't I stronger, though? I must be. But the blood, it surrounds me.... I must remember: my husband has sent for the doctor. The doctor.... I will continue writing once I am fully recovered....

..........


End file.
